


Dissecting Her Dreams

by TheUnburied



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: 31 Days of Apex (Apex Legends), Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnburied/pseuds/TheUnburied
Summary: Wraith enlists the help of an old friend to see what memories she can pull from her dreams.[ Day 1 - Memory - 31 Days of Apex ]
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Dissecting Her Dreams

"What do you remember?" She asked, slumped forward in her seat so her elbows rested on her knees. The pen sat perched between two fingers, poised above an old tablet, and she fidgeted with it when she thought I wasn't looking. She was always rapt with attention, but I could tell she was just as anxious as I was -- maybe more. After all, out of the two of us, she had the harder job: She had to determine if I was being honest with her, honest with myself,

"Dunno." I replied automatically. I picked through the fog of the memories until I could make out shapes, and from there, associations. This was how it always began. It wasn't easy and it wasn’t fun, but every time it happened, I called on her like clockwork. And like clockwork, she came with her little tablet and her rapt attention, and she listened,

"It started in the void." I finally began. I was sure of that much. I brushed a hand through my hair, and as parts of my bun began to fall away, I busied myself by pulling them back into place, "Think I was in a game. I had a sniper, but I couldn't run with it." I faltered, "Dunno why that's important." I finally admitted. Her expression didn't change, but I knew she was beginning to get impatient. I brought in my focus,

"Portal opened. It wasn't mine, but I went through anyway. And I was…" I searched for the words while I pinned my bun back in place, "It didn't make sense. I was in a bedroom I'd never seen before, but I knew it was mine. The portal wasn’t gone, it was just never there. I was wearing different clothes." I saw the way she leaned in, and knew she was only betraying her interest for my sake, "The desk was covered in empty noodle cartons and sketches of something I can't remember -- think it was mechanical. The room was messy. I _knew_ it was messy because I kept thinking about it. I kept thinking, _‘If he sees how bad this is, he’s going to think I lost my mind.’_ ” Something about saying that aloud struck a nerve. I felt something sink deep in my gut, and swallowed back the cold anxiety,

“And then Mirage came in.” Her flat expression remained fixated on me, but I saw the way the pen scratched blindly across the tablet. I briefly wondered how messy her notes were going to be, “And he looked frustrated, he kept saying, _‘Jesus, Renee, look at this place…’_ ” Another pang of something acrid spiked in my throat. I reached for a glass of water and took a sip, before going on, “He said, _‘What are we going to do with you?’_ I picked up the sketch from the table and put it in his hands, and I told him, _‘I think I figured it out.’_ ” I hesitated again to collect my thoughts, and watched her lips purse in frustration,

“I didn’t know what I’d figured out.” I admitted, “I mean, I didn’t know before I said it, but I said something about his eyes, or, er, augments… dunno. But I was trying to explain it to him, and he didn’t care, think he was too obsessed with my room. And his decoys were in the background while I’m trying to explain this. They were going around, touching my things, and I had a gun again, and every time I shot one, another took his place.” This was where the dream stopped making as much sense, but the words tumbled out anyway, “We were back in the arena, but I’m-- I was _still_ trying to explain something to him. Something about his eyes, or mine? I knew it’d have to be me, it was always me, _always_. And I felt like-- I felt like he just wasn’t--”

The glass shattered in my grip and we both shot to our feet. We didn’t speak, but the both of us knew what to do. She began cleaning up the pieces while I washed the blood from my shaking hands. She knew where I kept my washcloths, my trash, my clean cups. By the time I’d bandaged myself up, she’d poured a fresh glass of water, taken a few sips to calm her nerves, and set it out for me. We sat in uncomfortable silence for another moment or two, until I finally spoke up, trying to mask the strain in my voice,

“...So what does that tell you?” 

“What we already knew.” She tucked the tablet into her jacket and wiped her palms off on her jeans, “Singh was controlling. He wanted to make sure we played by his rules. Kept a tight lead on us. Probably because he was afraid. He knew what we were capable of.” She scanned my face for a reaction, but I didn’t give her anything,

“Then it lines up.” I replied, gesturing between us, “With what you remember.”

“Lines up with a lot of the stories.” She agreed, “You’re not the first one that’s had that dream. Sometimes the details are different. Sometimes it’s Path, or sometimes the sketches are different, one time the room was on Talos. But it’s always messy, or hard to get to, or _something_ , and someone’s always going off about it. Same themes.”

“Always wrong.” I echoed. She nodded,

“Always wrong. And whatever familiar face was there, was always just a stand-in. Doesn’t have to do with them--”

“--They just happened to be on my mind--” I continued her thought,

“--Even if you just saw them in passing.” She continued mine, and despite that, I still felt guilty for putting Elliott in Singh’s place. I deflated a little in my chair. We both fell silent again, giving each other a bit of space to think things over.

Then, as her eyes clouded white, I heard a voice gently warn us, _‘Someone’s coming'_. She sat up and began toying with her gauntlet, and I hurried to the sink to drown out the portal’s noise. An impossible darkness welled up like ink in water, discoloring the air around her. She turned to look at me and hesitated,

“Find me again if you have any more dreams.”

“You got it.” I replied, watching her step through.

The portal closed as a knock came at my door.


End file.
